Too Late
by cleopatra2070
Summary: Draco is tired of pretending to be someone he isn't. But will he find a way to escape it? Warning! Chara death!


Author's Note: I came across this ficlet that's been around for almost a year, and as my feelings right now are somewhat like Draco's, thought I might as well post it, see what you guys think. 

Summary: Draco is tired of pretending to be someone he isn't. But will he find a way to escape it? [Draco POV] 

Genre: Angst 

Rating: PG-13 for suicide and some swearing. 

Disclaimer: It's not mine. 

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Too Late

By Cleopatra 

Pretend. Don't let your feelings influence you. Hate mudbloods, hate squibs, hate everything that isn't Slytherin or Malfoy, hate Harry Potter. 

I pass the trio in one of the hallways. They're laughing. They're having fun. They're being open with each other. Why can't I? Why? WHY? Why was I born a Malfoy? 

I sneer at them. "Well, well, if it isn't the super trio: Mudblood, Weasley and, oh, of course, Potter. Dream any dreams of your parents dying lately?" 

He simply glares, but I know he's refraining from attacking me. I turn to Weasley. "And how about your family? Hasn't the roof of your house collapsed on them yet? It's really a pity that your family is so _weak_ and so _poor_," I spit out at him. 

"Damn you, Malfoy!" He moves towards me, but his friends restrain him. 

"Go away, Malfoy, we don't care what you have to say," Potter says through his teeth. They turn and go, just leaving me here, where I catch Weasley's remark, "I swear, that git Malfoy hasn't anything better to do." 

Damn them! What do they know? Did they even try to put themselves in my shoes? No, they wouldn't and I wouldn't let them. It's my life! My life to do as I please with it! _'Is it?'_ We've had this conversation before. Leave me alone ! 

I hate all this pretending and lying. But it's a second nature to me. I couldn't turn over a new leaf and I can't escape my father's control. I've obeyed him all my life, for fifteen goddamned years! and I know I can't shake off his influence. 

My life is made up only and only of lies and façades. No, wait, what am I saying? What an untruthful statement I've just made. It's not _my_ life, it's never been. I'm tired, fucking tired of not living. I am not Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy is a Slytherin, mortal enemy of the Boy Who Lived, devious, shameless and perfectly evil. I am not him! I am a person no one knows they exist! Worse, far worse, I am a person without the courage or decency to show themselves! I'm tired of it all! What good, what use the raging arguments with myself, what use the inner turmoil, what use silently complaining in my mind, where no one can hear me? Nothing, nothing I can do how I want it! I was robbed my childhood, my dreams, my innocence, I can't have them back! I wanted so bad to be his friend, I did, I do, he rejected me! Because of the mask I put up because of father, he didn't look through it, no one did, no one does! And now it's too late! Miserable, pathetic fool! It's too late for you! I can't change, I'm not able and I'm not allowed... Too late, it's far too late for me... 

The way I should -am expected to- follow is made up of lies, façades and death. Speak more lies, build more walls, bring more death. Death! When I treasure life! Voldemort did nothing to me and yet I hate him with a passion for what he did. How do they think I could -would- join him? Damn my father, damn him, damn him! He made me kill it, I didn't want to, no, NO! 

No more, no more! I need to stop, I can't go on! Too much to bear, things I can't live with but there's no way to shake them off, no way out, no. way. out! 

I sob in the North Tower, hardly able to breathe; my soul hurts somewhere under its crumbles; help me! help me! Why won't anyone help me! 

I grasp my want, squeezing it tight, trying to come back to reality. What were those words- ah, yes. The third and most potent of the unforgivable curses-Avada Kedavra. 'Let me out!', and I don't know if I was the one to speak that, or my soul. 

I point the wand at myself -as I aimed it at an elf that shouldn't have died- and speak the words with which I already took a life before -'You deserve to die'- Avada Kedavra! 

The End 

Or is it...? 


End file.
